


Remember Me, Try Your Hardest

by emma91011



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 6x01 ruined me, Angst, F/M, Literally so much angst, enjoy, so I wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma91011/pseuds/emma91011
Summary: Lydia knows she's forgetting something, she just can't remember what.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "Memory Lost" fucked me up so badly and I just had to write about what comes next because I can't wait until 6x02. Enjoy!

“Remember, I love you.”

The words rang through Lydia’s head as she sat in Roscoe, tears streaming down her face. “Remember,” she chanted. “Remember.”

She couldn’t forget him. His kind, brown eyes. His big, goofy smile. How could he think she would forget him? 

Her hands gripped at empty air, searching for his hands. The world suddenly felt cold, darker, empty. 

Lydia shut her eyes, recalling what he had said about the time they danced. She could feel his hands around her shoulders, pulling her into his warmth.

She thought about all the times she had ignored him freshman and sophomore year, and how she had begun to love him too late. But, knowing that he liked her, no, loved her this entire time, well it changed everything for Lydia. She couldn’t very well forget him now. Not when she finally had him.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she sighed and got out of the jeep. She had to go home and start researching. She had to find some way to get him back. That was all that mattered.

But, as she got to her car, she found herself wondering why she was so distressed. Stiles. 

She bit her lip. It was beginning. Frantically, she searched for a pen and a piece of paper. Writing his name down, she prayed she wouldn’t forget what it meant by the time she got home.

But when she got home, there was no name on the paper at all. ‘Was there something I was supposed to remember?’ she thought. Stiles. You’re supposed to find a way to save Stiles. 

Remembering he was gone brought on a new wave of tears. Sobbing, Lydia got out of her car and rushed to her room, typing into google ‘The Wild Hunt.’

When the results finally showed up, Lydia couldn’t remember why she had searched it in the first place. Shutting the laptop, she got ready for bed. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Stiles.”

 

The next morning, Lydia curled her hair and applied her makeup carefully. She selected her outfit, and went to school. Checking her makeup one last time, she wondered who she was trying to impress.

As she walked into the hall, she froze. Everyone was laughing and smiling, but Lydia stood with her eyes wide and her heart beating. Hayden and Liam gave her a look, smiling in confusion at her bewildered expression.

Malia approached her, concerned at her friend’s silence. “You okay?”

Blinking, Lydia looked up. “I have this feeling that I was supposed to do something.” 

“Do what?” Lydia heard Scott say as he walked up to his friends. 

Widening her eyes, she looked at Scott, fear in her eyes. “I can’t remember.”

Malia and Scott shared a look. Reaching for her friend, Malia linked arms with Lydia. “I’m sure you forgot to study for a test or had some homework you didn’t do.” 

Scott nodded, “If it was something important, you’d remember.” 

Pulling away from Malia, her expression became desperate. “That’s the thing! I know it’s important. I just can’t figure it out, but I know I have to remember. Or else!”

“Or else, what?” Scott asked, his growing concern only feeding to her anxiety. 

“Or else someone will get hurt.”

 

The day passed slowly for Lydia after the incident in the hall. Scott and Malia watched her closely during every class. But, there was an empty seat beside her that was a gaping hole similar to the one in her heart.

After school, Lydia found herself driving aimlessly through a neighborhood she’d never stepped foot in. Stopping at a house on the corner, she looked quizzically at the jeep in the driveway. 

It was powder blue, or at least it used to be. There was a tarp covering half of it, and a tire was missing from the front. It seemed to be falling apart.

Someone knocked on her window, causing her to jump. It was the sheriff. “Hello, Sheriff. Sorry, I didn’t realize this was your house,” Lydia apologized.

Smiling, he waved his hand. “Ah, no problem. I see you eyeing up Roscoe over her. Any interest in taking her off my hands?”

Ignoring his question completely, Lydia whipped her head to give him a crazed look. “What did you call the jeep?” she said, her voice filled with emotion.

“Roscoe?” the sheriff answered, confused as ever. 

“Hey, wait, Lydia!” he called, as Lydia sped away. Tears filling her eyes, she rolled up the windows. Parking a block away, she sat back in her seat and screamed.

 

A week after the incident with the sheriff, Lydia found herself driving past his house and Roscoe every week, hoping it would bring some memory to her. Nothing came.

She drove by in the dark with Malia, before the lacrosse game one Friday night. “Who’s jeep is that?” She asked in disgust at it’s dilapidated condition. 

“Sheriff Stilinski’s. Do you think I should buy it and repair it?” Lydia asked in a cheery voice, trying to throw off Malia’s concern.

Scoffing, Malia rolled her eyes. “Let’s just go to the game.”

They rolled up just as the player’s names were being announced. Rushing to the stands, they got there in time to see Scott run onto the field. Screaming at the top of their lungs for their friend, Lydia’s eyes caught a boy in the jersey 24.

“Hey, Malia, who’s 24?” Lydia asked, her eyebrows burrowed in puzzlement.

Shrugging, Malia ignored Lydia’s odd remark. She’d been making ones similar to that all week, asking about random things, such as mythology and something called the Wild Hunt. “Lydia, I think you need a day to relax,” Malia said with a laugh.

Smiling, Lydia nodded. “I may just go home now and sleep, I think I need it. I haven’t slept well in a week now. Do you mind catching a ride home from Scott?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Malia said, not taking her eyes off of him. Lydia knew she could care less, that once Malia started watching lacrosse, she was gone. Her friend loved all things competitive and winning was her priority.

Pushing through the crowd, Lydia headed towards the parking lot. A gust of wind swept through, carrying a voice with it. Cocking her head, Lydia concentrated hard.

“You saved my life,” a voice said softly. Lydia swore it was a memory, not a premonition. 

“You saved mine too,” she whispered in reply, catching her off guard. She was replying to no one. 

“Remember, I love you.”

Lydia wasn’t talking to no one. It hit her at once. 

“Stiles.”


End file.
